Home for the Holidays
by amberdowny
Summary: Hawkeye remembers a Christmas wish…Warning: Slash and suicide


Title: Home for the Holidays

Author: SP

Rating: Teen--maybe Mature

Pairing: Hawkeye/B.J.

Disclaimer: I don't own MASH. If I did, it would've been even slashier than it already was, if that's humanly possible.

Summary: Hawkeye remembers a Christmas wish…

Warnings: Suicide and slash. And my estimate of years may be off…the timeline in the show is all wonky. The hazards of setting a ten-year show in a three-year war.

A/N: Yes, it's been ages since I delved into MASH fic. I just got involved in bunches of other things, and then I actually couldn't bear to watch MASH for awhile…but because I associate MASH with the holidays, for some reason, and it's December, you get a holiday fic! Though an angsty one

"Hawk…that was a long time ago," B.J. says slowly.

"I…yeah, it was, but…I thought--"

B.J. closes his eyes. Shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Hawk. I didn't--I can't…it has to be this way." Opens his eyes again, to gauge my reaction.

I nod. "Okay. I'm sorry." I turn to go. I open the door, pause. Whisper goodbye, though I know he can't hear. Then I leave, pulling the door closed behind me. I get into the rented car and drive--just drive.

I'm looking for something in particular, but not a particular one. Any old one will do.

I turn down a dead-end street that looks promising. And yes, my instincts were right. Just before the last house on the road, a huge old mansion-type place, there's a bridge crossing a river. It's only about twenty feet down, but the river is shallow, and I can do a perfect dive.

I park on this side of the bridge. Get out of the car. Then I climb up onto the side. It's a pretty thick stone ledge, about a foot. Probably so cars won't break through as easily. There's garland draped festively over it.

I extend my arms, then stop and sit down, dangling my feet over the water.

What will people say when they find out? They'll be disappointed, that's what. 'Oh, why, Hawkeye?' they'll ask me, futilely. Well, because everyone has a breaking point, that's why.

Except I have several, evidently. Seeing babies killed by their own mothers is one. And being rejected by B.J. is another.

Oh, I'm not one of those people who'll kill themselves at the drop of a hat--a superficial break-up, for instance, doesn't bother me a whole lot. It's just that this thing with Beej was the final straw. See, my dad died recently, and something that happened, back before Korea, resurfaced and lost me my private practice and any future hospital positions. He was really my final hope.

I just didn't expect that my hopes would be shattered.

It's Christmastime again. Forty-five Christmases I've seen. Twenty-eight before Korea, two in Korea, and fifteen since. It's one of those two in Korea that have the most to do with tonight, though.

I stand up again. Extend my arms. Lean forward, and remember…

---

"Another Christmas in Korea," I moaned.

"That it is," B.J. agreed. "Hey, and that party for the orphans starts soon."

I sighed, flung myself onto my cot. Poured myself a drink, then one for B.J. "Tell me, Beej. What are Christmases like in Mill Valley with Peg and Erin?"

"I wouldn't know," he replied tersely. "I've never spent one with both of them."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

He sighed. "I know." He took the drink from me. "They're green," he said after a pause. "And sunny."

"What?"

"Christmases."

I scoffed. "That's not a real Christmas. Real Christmases involve a couple feet of snow. No trips to the beach involved."

"You Northerners and your snow," B.J. teased fondly. "I don't understand your fascination."

I raised my eyebrows. "No? Well then, my friend, when we get back to the States, you'll have to come out for a real Christmas. Let Erin see snow. She'll love it."

"She probably would," B.J. agreed.

"It's a day then!" I proclaimed, raising my martini in a toast. We both downed our drinks.

"Thank you for helping clean up, Hawkeye, B.J.," Father Mulcahy said, throwing the last of the paper into the trash barrel.

"No problem," I replied. "It's the least we could do."

"Yeah," B.J. added. "Those kids were so excited to get the presents. It's worth cleaning up shreds of paper to have seen that."

Father Mulcahy nodded. "It certainly was! It's only unfortunate that we can't do more for them."

"Yeah."

The good Father said his goodbyes, and then left the Mess Tent. I collapsed onto a bench.

"Whew!"

"You can say that again," Beej agreed, sitting beside me. "Here, want my last tiny candy cane?"

I looked at the small red and white stick suspiciously. "Where'd it come from?"

"My pocket. I had Peg send a bunch--didn't you see me giving them to the kids?" B.J. asked.

I took it and crunched it in my mouth before replying. "Well, yeah," I admitted, swallowing. "I just didn't know whether they were army surplus left from World War Two."

He laughed. "No, I promise. Fresh from sunny California."

"Good." I yawned and stretched, vocalizing as I did so. Then I paused and examined the ceiling. "Beej," I began quietly.

"Hm?" he replied.

I hesitated, and then continued, "We're sitting under mistletoe."

"Oh, are we?" He looked up too. "Huh. Well, I guess you have to kiss me now." B.J. smiled. "Come on, it's tradition." 

I leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. Not that I didn't want to kiss him on the lips, but I didn't want to get punched out either.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on Hawkeye! That's not a kiss!" And he grabbed me and kissed me full on. I made an undignified squeaking sound, and then kissed back.

Beej leaned back slowly. "You taste like peppermint," he whispered softly.

"Stands to reason," I replied, just as softly. "Beej, what was that?"

He shrugged. "A kiss."

"Yes, it was," I said patiently. "And you're you and I'm me."

"Ye-es," B.J. replied slowly. "So…what are you asking?"

"We're--"

"Men, yes, I'd realized. More than you think," he added, and my eyes widened. He suddenly looked at me in alarm. "Whoa, easy, Hawk. I didn't tell anyone. Breathe." I realized I'd stopped and started again. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I just didn't think anyone…"

He smiled. "I'm extra observant."

"Oh. Okay. Well then, um, let's get back to the Swamp."

"Right."

We stood up and crossed to the entrance of the Mess, were Beej kissed me again, gently. "Mistletoe," he whispered, pointing upwards. I followed his finger and saw he was right.

"Merry Christmas," he said.

---

I start to lean past the point of equilibrium. I'll tumble over any second. Goodbye.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wraps around my chest and yanks me backwards, onto the hard road. "Ow," I moan, and then look to see who stopped me.

And it's B.J., as I should have expected.

"What are you doing!?" we both yell at the same time.

"What am _I_ doing?!" we reply.

"I was saving your life!" B.J. shouts.

I scramble to my feet. "Yeah? Well, I don't want to be saved! I have no reason to live!"

"Because I won't risk everything I have to be with you?" B.J. asks incredulously, jumping up himself.

"That, and the fact that, let's see, my father died, and then in a fit of jealousy over my taking over all his patients, Vernon Parsons reminded everyone, 'hey, weren't there weird rumors about that Ben Pierce and that Gillis boy thirty years ago?' So everyone started talking. Then someone from med school exaggerated about something that happened and, well, the long and short of it is that I lost my private practice and no local hospitals would hire me. I have no references so I can't get hired somewhere else either. So then I thought, well, let's see, who knows me and likes me anyway? And I thought of you. And we know how that turned out."

B.J. sighs. Sinks back to the ground. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Yeah, well." I sit beside him.

"Hawk…you know Peg and I are divorced."

"Yeah."

"It was really hard for me to get Erin. Peg resented that I tried. And Peg had her suspicions about--me. And you. If she were to find out we lived together--even if that's all it was, she'd get people to look into why you moved across the country. It'd be bad for both of us."

I wrap my arms around myself, shivering. "You think she'd do that?"

"I'm…pretty sure."

"Then I understand. Just answer me one question, okay?"

"Anything."

I take a deep breath. "Do you now, or have you ever…"

"Reciprocated your feelings?" B.J. suggests. "Yes. You remember after I kissed you, I told you I knew more than you realized? I knew how you felt about me. And I felt the same. That's why I kissed you."

I hug myself tighter and rub at my arms. "That was then. And now?"

"Now? The feelings never went away. I'm always thrilled when I get a letter from you. I love picking up the phone and hearing your voice on the other end. In short, yes, again. But I told you…it just can't work. That's not to say I don't want it to work. But--"

"Yeah, I understand. That doesn't mean I accept it." I stand up again and walk towards the side of the bridge.

"Benjamin Franklin Pierce, if you dive off that bridge, then I swear to God I'll follow you!" B.J. shouts.

That makes me pause. "Are you saying you'd kill yourself for me, but you wouldn't risk losing public opinion?" I ask, turning back to face him.

He looks stunned. "Yeah, I am. God Hawk, I'm sorry. I didn't put in in perspective." He's quiet for a moment. Then he walks toward me, slowly. "I didn't think…" He stops. "Come home with me?"

"Yes," I reply, and then I embrace him tightly. At some point between the initial embrace and when we sink to the ground again, I start sobbing. I cling to B.J. as if I'm a drowning man and he's my lifeline--which he is. He clings to me just as tightly.

When my sobs subside and I'm only sniffling, B.J. pulls away from the hug. Then he leans in again. Kisses me slowly. I close my eyes. Kiss back. A few minutes later, he pulls away with a wet sound.

"Mistletoe," he explains in a whisper, pointing to the garland, which is indeed dotted with mistletoe. "Come on, let's go home."

I allow him to pull me to my feet, lead me to my rented car. Did he run here? He must have.

The radio comes to life as he starts the ignition. "There's no place like home for the holidays," a man croons.

I turn and meet Beej's eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Hawk."


End file.
